


Nothing 'Twixt

by Limpet666



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Poetry, Teasing, Trans!Oswald (Post-T/Pre-Surgery)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 18:30:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9779084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Limpet666/pseuds/Limpet666
Summary: "If you stop, I stop."Reading poetry in the bedroom adds a whole new sense of risk.





	

**Author's Note:**

> To reiterate, I write Oswald Cobblepot as trans (Post-T/Pre-Surgery) so just be aware when reading, even though the language in this isn't explicit.
> 
> The poem is The Nightmare by W. S. Gilbert.

_ “When you're lying awake with a dismal… headache, and repose is taboo’d by ah- anxiety,  _

_ “I conceive you may use any language y-you choose to indulge in, without-- ah.” _

The words faltered helplessly in Oswald’s mouth, too distracted by the man with his head between his legs, who was pleasuring him so expertly.

Pleasure that stopped the moment Oswald went quiet. 

Oswald’s frustrated keen was endearing, and Victor smirked.

“Remember, Oswald, you stop I stop.”

Blue eyes burned down at him from over flushed, freckled cheeks, and Zsasz turned his head to press a biting kiss to Oswald’s inner thigh. With a shudder and another groan, Oswald picked up the book from where it had fallen against his chest and attempted to continue.

“-- With--ah!--out  _ impropriety;  _ For your brain is o-on fire--” Oswald’s voice got steadily faster, shaking with the effort to concentrate as Victor licked and sucked and hummed and did his very best to pleasure Oswald as thoroughly as he could. Rewarding him for words well spoken.

But when Oswald paused just a bit too long Zsasz immediately stopped. Breathlessly, Oswald hurried to continue, the words laced with a desperate moan.

“--The bedclothes…  _ conspire-ah!  _ O-of usual s-s-slumber to plunder… you- ah  _ Victor _ !”

Oswald dropped one hand from the book to rake his nails over Victor's arm as the pleasure began to push him to distraction, head falling back against the pillows.

And again Victor stopped, and this time Oswald’s cry was edged with anger at being denied his pleasure.

“Victor!”

Victor responded to the admonishment by biting again at the sensitive skin of Oswald’s inner thigh. Only this time he did it hard and long enough to make the smaller man buck with a gasp of pain, and he left a livid bruise on the pale skin.

“Please…” Oswald’s voice had turned pitiful, and whilst Victor knew Oswald could change his demeanor at the drop of a hat, he still appreciated the tone.

“One more line,” Victor bargained, blowing cool air out over Oswald’s sensitive skin, and grinning when he twitched and gasped before him. “Read the next one perfect and we'll call it quits.”

Oswald bit at his lip with a steadying breath before his eyes turned down to the page again, blinking many times to focus his vision.

“First--” Oswald almost sobbed in frustrated pleasure when Victor's tongue found him again, but with sheer force of will he persisted, “-- your counterpane goes--” 

He grit his teeth to steady his voice, even as his toes curled in the bed sheets.

“--and uncovers your toes, a-and your sheet slips d...demur--nngh--ely from under you;”

It was the end of the line, and when Oswald stopped gladly with a shuddering moan, Victor lifted his head to demand:

“Another.”

And Oswald, distracted with pleasure was too worried he might stop  _ now _ to argue. With a weak cry of frustration he continued, voice getting faster and more desperate as he went on. 

“Th-then the b-bla--ah--nketing tickles -- you feel l-like mixed --  _ God Victor!”  _ Oswald’s hands found their way to Victor's head, blunt nails scratching for lack for anything to hold onto. All it took was for Victor to breathe a pause and Oswald was struggling to continue with a frantic whimper of desperation.

“--pickles -- so terribly sh-sharp is the…  _ pricking!” _

The rush towards his climax built beneath Victor's clever, insistent mouth, and it was all Oswald could do to stare at the words on the page and make his mouth say them aloud.

“And y-you're  _ hot-- _ ” His whole body began to coil, and Victor held his hips down as his voice began to come apart.

“-- and you're--ah! cross,--” his words were fast and desperate and his fingers curling against the pages of the book hard enough to crease them, “--and you tumble  _ and toss till there's nothing’twixtyouandthe--!” _

The book of poems was flung to the bed as Oswald struck out with that hand to clutch at the bedsheets as his orgasm rolled through him and rocked him to his core. 

Victor wasn't cruel enough to stop pleasuring him this time, and kept his mouth on Oswald as he bucked and roiled through the pleasure. The cries and moans he was gasping out were far better than any poetry anyway.

Eventually Oswald settled back down into the blankets, breathing hard and twitching with pleasant aftershocks as Victor slowly moved away. He pressed a gentle path of kisses up over Oswald’s stomach and chest, and felt slim arms wrapping up over his shoulders. 

Oswald kissed Victor with a contented hum, mouth opening under him without protest.

After a few minutes of languid intimacy, Oswald had finally regained enough of his senses to reach out across the bed. 

Seconds later he was pulling back from the kiss and pressing the book of poems against Victor's chest.

“ _ Your turn.” _


End file.
